


May Prompts

by Mix Stitch (Synph)



Category: DCU - Comicverse, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M, Gen, Gladiators, Identity Porn, Lingerie, M/M, Mild Gore, Minor Violence, Multi, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Tentacles, Werewolf Biology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 21:28:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/816237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synph/pseuds/Mix%20Stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I started taking a few prompts yesterday and these are the resulting stories</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reward (Bruce/Dick)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’d love to see more of that Bruce/Dick Gladiator AU, if you’re up for that? 8D - epigenetics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains descriptions of blood and gladiatorial violence.

The thought of bedding Richard again keeps Bruce at his peak throughout his next bout of matches.

Bruce forces himself to fight past the point of exhaustion because he’s the favorite and he intends to keep it that way. Every gout of blood that splashes him is a means to an end. Every single time that he has to kill a solemn-faced opponent at the command of the crowd or his masters, Bruce does it knowing that if he makes it through to the end and wins the crowd’s favor at the same time, his reward will be the eager slave boy from his last set of matches.

Hours later, when Bruce staggers back to his room at the  _ludus_   _gladiatorius_ , he finds his reward waiting for him dressed only in a light linen wrap masquerading as proper clothing . The sight of Richard’s lithe body sprawled Bruce’s bed more than makes up for the day’s carnage.

“Were you waiting long?” Bruce asks as he crosses the room to where someone has filled a washbasin with water from the well outside. Bruce washes his face and hands, but when he goes to clean the blood spattering his chest, Richard makes a low sound of dissent that stops him in his tracks. Bruce glances at the slave boy. “Yes, Richard?”

Richard’s tongue slides out to wet his lips. The boy twists his fingers into the curling strands of his long, black hair and offers Bruce a hungry smile. “Do you have to wash up?”

Bruce stares at Richard. “Is that what you want?” He gestures at the blood and gore liberally coating his skin and then frowns at himself. “This isn’t my blood —”

“I know,” Richard says, still smiling up at Bruce. “I don’t care.


	2. Perfect Fit (Tim/Kon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> University AU TimKon size kink? - roserelease

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW for handjobs and the general theme.

Conner’s letterman jacket barely fits him.

When he wears it around their college campus, he has to be ridiculously careful to keep the fabric from tearing in the worst way. Since starting on the college team, Conner has bulked up in ways that are pretty hard to believe. His jacket doesn’t fit him very well anymore, but it sure as hell fits Tim.

*

“Your jacket’s too big, Conner,” Tim complains. He pushes the sleeves up without looking at his boyfriend’s face, frowning when the sleeves simply slide right back down to cover his hands. The black jacket hangs off his shoulders and it’s so warm that even underneath the air-conditioning vent in Tim’s office, he feels like he’s seconds away from sweating. “Didn’t you get them to measure you for this?”

Conner looks up from where he’s kneeling between Tim’s spread legs and scowls at his boyfriend.

“Don’t you think this could wait until later?” Conner slides the palms of his hands up over Tim’s pale thighs, over muscles made strong from years of running track at a near-professional level, and then grins at the gasp that Tim can’t stop himself from uttering. “It was your idea to come in here after hours, but if you’ve changed your mind —”

Before Conner can finish teasing him, Tim makes a face and swats him with the flapping ends of the jacket’s sleeves. “I’m not,” he blurts out, squirming in his desk chair when Conner leans in and curls the fingers of one massive hand around his dick. When Conner starts to jack him off with firm strokes a hair tighter than the grip Tim usually uses with himself, Tim’s toes curl against the carpet in his office and his hips buck. 

“Fuck you, Conner,” he hisses. “I’m not changing my damn mind.”

Conner smiles. “You’ll keep the jacket on then?”

Tim nods. “Only because I know how much you like seeing me in your clothes.”

Conner scoffs but doesn’t actually deny it. “Maybe if you weren’t so tiny…”

“Shut up, Conner!”


	3. Claim (Bruce/Dick)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce Dick Werewolf AU perhaps? :3 Maybe how the claiming happens…if ure up to it XD - st00pz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mildly NSFW and takes place in the same universe as [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/401136).

Dick doesn't really know what he says to make Bruce wolf-out on him. One minute, he's telling his alpha about something that happened on his last outing with the Titans and the next --

"Holy crap, Bruce," Dick says as his back hits the mats with a dull thud. Bruce isn't particularly gentle about holding Dick down to the mats and when Dick tries to pull away, the press of sharp claws into his side stops him cold. "Wh-what's going on?"

Bruce growls down at Dick, eyes flashing silver before returning to their usual blue hue. When he bares his teeth in a snarl, the canines there are sharper than usual and Dick flashes back to the night of his turning. The threat of a bite from his alpha makes Dick whine as his inner wolf reacts to Bruce's pin in the most predictable way possible.

Every single instinct in Dick's head calls for him to bare his throat. He digs his fingers into the mats, wincing when he hears the rip of the mats underneath them and then smells the faintly chemical scent of the foam spilling out. Pressed together like they are, Dick can feel Bruce against every part of his body -- can feel him with most of his senses.

"Bruce? Are you in there, big guy?" Dick tries to get Bruce's attention again and when talking doesn't work, Dick tries to push himself up so he's not laying sprawled across the now-ruined exercise mats with Bruce on top of him. That doesn't go well either.

"Don't move," Bruce says with tension vibrating in his voice. "The wolf wants -- I want -- to claim you and moving makes it worse." Bruce's fingers dig into Dick's skin for a second and then he yanks his hand away, looking upset with himself for hurting Dick in the slightest. "If you don't move, I believe I can force the wolf's instincts back."

Dick stares up at Bruce with his eyes gone wide. "What do you mean by 'claiming'? If it's something you need to do, Bruce, I --"

Bruce cuts Dick off before he can make the offer. He drops his head against Dick's shoulder and utters a low noise of frustration against Dick's skin. "You don't know what you're asking for," he says loud enough for Dick to hear. "Claiming is -- it's permanent, Dick. It's binding. I can't do that to you."

"Not even if I want it?" Dick's question surprises them both.

There's a moment where Bruce jerks his head up and stares at him with a rim of silver gleaming around the outside of his iris. "You can't mean that, Dick," Bruce says even though he's already eyeing the curve of Dick's throat with hunger gleaming in the depths of his eyes. Bruce tries to do the honorable thing and pull away from Dick's body, but he stops when Dick reaches for him. "Are you sure?"

Dick nods and tries to remind himself that he's wanted nothing  _but_  a more permanent thing with his alpha. "I am."


	4. Date Night (Scott/Stiles/Allison)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles/Scott approaching Allison about potential threesome-type activities???? - me-ya-ri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think of this as a sort of sequel to [this story](http://archiveofourown.org/works/693982) (at least until I write the actual polyamory negotiation stuff).

Scott and Stiles go everywhere with each other.

From her first day at Beacon Hills High, Allison picked up on their weirdly symbiotic relationship. It’s a fact that if Scott goes somewhere, Stiles won’t be far behind.

So Allison doesn’t think anything of it when she walks into the one movie theater in town and sees Scott and Stiles sitting together on the edge of a concrete planter inside the spacious lobby

Instead, Allison smiles and gives both boys tight hugs once she’s close enough. Scott’s of course, lingers longer and she finishes it with a quick kiss, but Stiles’ doesn’t get a half-assed hug either. Allison hugs him tightly because Stiles is a good guy and she likes that he’s always, obviously there for Scott. “So you’re coming on our date too?”

Stiles grins. “Of course,” he says with a bright smile that reaches all the way up to his eyes. “How could I pass up the chance to see another JJ Abrams lens flare fest with my two best buds?” Stiles slings an arm around Allison’s shoulder and pulls her close. “Besides, Scott asked me to drive since his mom’s working the late shift and it’s a school night. I couldn’t just drop him off and ditch without getting to see your lovely face.”

Allison giggles and then claps her hands over her mouth. “Oh my god, Stiles!”

“Stop hogging my girlfriend,” Scott says with a soft half-smile on his face. He presses his fingers into Allison’s hand and then uses his light hold on her fingers to tug her over into a loose hug.  ”You can flirt with her later, when we’re having dinner.”

“We’re having dinner?” Allison asks. “Together?”

Stiles nods. “Dad’s working overnight and I — being the utterly selfless person that I am — have volunteered my services too cook you all a lovely meal.” Stiles grins at Allison. He bounces forward and loops his arm through Allison’s left arm. “Now let’s go wreck our night vision with lens flare and bad casting choices.”

Allison lets Stiles and Scott lead her towards the right side of the theater. “You guys already bought tickets?”

Scott says, “Of course we did.”

Almost seeming to finish Scott’s thought, Stiles follows with another bright smile and says, “It’s a date isn’t it? No one said we were going dutch and Scott’s the only one of us with a job.” Stiles gives Scott a look, a little sharper grin and a wiggle of his eyebrows.

The significance (of Stiles’ words or the look that he gives Scott) is definitely not lost on Allison. She waits until Scott hands their tickets over to the usher standing guard at a tiny little stand and then hauls Scott and Stiles over to the nearest empty hallway.

“Wh-what? Allison —”

“Is this a date,” Allison hisses under her breath as she glances back and forth between Scott and Stiles and their suddenly closed-off faces.

“Well… yeah. You’re on a date with Scott,” Stiles says in a droll tone.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” Allison says. “Are the three of us on an actual date or not? Am I going to turn around and see you guys making out on the way to the bathroom or something?”

Scott caves. “Maybe,” he says softly, “If you want? I don’t — I don’t want things to be creepy or messed up between us, but I like you a lot and I like Stiles too, I—” Scott’s face falls and he looks so sad that Allison reaches for him immediately, pulling him in close and hugging him until he pulls himself together enough to speak again.

“Yeah, this is totally a date,” he admits into Allison’s hair. “And dinner was Stiles’ idea. We were going to ask you then.”

“Ask me what?”

“We were going to ask you if you wanted to pretend your life was an HBO series and go out with us — both of us.” Stiles’ usual bright demeanor has worn down into something that’s a lot more personal. He looks at Scott and Allison as though he’s expecting to hear a rejection and then stuffs his hands into the pockets of his black hoodie. “But obviously, you think that’s weird and I should probably just go —”

Allison cuts Stiles off by holding up her hand. “Let’s just go on our… date,” she says. “You guys put a lot of work into it and well… it wouldn’t hurt to try.”


	5. Speakeasy (Dick+Damian)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DickDamian maybe (or if that can’t be either, JayTim) and hm, Prohibition Era AU? - varevare

As the son of one of the city’s most visible bigwigs, there are many places where Damian Wayne shouldn’t be seen — with or without his bodyguard detail. Oswald Cobblepot’s Iceberg Lounge is on the top of that list.

*

Damian dodges when his bodyguard reaches for him, leaving Dick Grayson’s hand to close over empty air as they walk through the club’s main path past half-dressed molls and the gangsters plying them with booze.  

The club is dark, but lively. Music from a live band plays off to one side of the massive underground room and everyone that’s anyone in Gotham City society has a square of space in the room.

As Damian walks through the room, he sees several of his father’s friends in shadowy spots all over the room. During the day, they act as though they’re the morality police but at night, they’re the ones greasing Cobblepot’s moist palms.

“You’re supposed to stay close, Damian,” Dick hisses, finally catching up with his charge. He slaps his hand over Damian’s shoulder through the white fabric of his suit and spins the young man around. “It’s bad enough that you’re out here at all. If you get hurt —”

Damian jerks away from Dick’s hand and then starts heading in the direction of his usual corner, a private booth close to one of the lesser known back exits in the joint. “I didn’t ask you to come,” he snaps once they’re mostly out of the private eye. “You caught me sneaking out of the house and forced me to let you drive. Don’t act as though you were invited.”

Dick flings himself into the seat across from Damian. The older man frowns at his charge and rests his forearms on the rickety table.

“I’m your bodyguard, Damian,” Dick says in a low voice that’s barely audible over the music blaring from where the band members stand on stage playing their hearts out. “Your old man’ll kill me if he finds out that I let you come out here in the first place. Do you know what he’d do to me if I ever let you out here on your own?”

“Does it look like I give a damn?” Damian drawls. His lip twitches with something that might be a sneer, but then the expression changes to something that seems neutral. “Either get a drink or go home. I’m not going home now and I don’t want to hear you moaning all night.”

When one of Cobblepot’s waitresses minces over with her gauzy black dress swinging around her thighs, Damian orders for both of them. Damian asks for the waitress to, “Get us two Gin Rickeys and whatever the cook has special.”

Once the waitress leaves, Dick sighs and rubs at his forehead with two fingers. “You’re making me out to be a terrible bodyguard, Damian. Why do you insist on coming out to places like this?”

“Where else can I go that Father won’t?” Damian asks. “Have you ever see him at one of these speakeasies? I have more privacy here with Cobblepot’s ears everywhere than I do in my bedroom.”

“And if the boys in blue decide to do a raid?”

“Why do you think I always sit back here?”


	6. Chase (Bruce/Dick)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce/Dick “chase.” Maybe something playful across the rooftops of Gotham, maybe something Arms dealer Bruce/Interpol Dick AU… whatever comes to mind! - silvertales

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually the story that spawned [this AU idea](http://kidquip.tumblr.com/post/51193912736/au-thing-selina-and-dick-are-partners-in-more). Is definitely worksafe.

“What can I do to get you off my back, Detective?” Dick glances up at the walls of the alley stretching high above his head and then returns to eyeing the detective stalking towards him. “I’ve already put back the jewels. What more do you want from me, Bruce?”

Bruce continues to walk towards Dick, eyeing him as though he expects Dick to make a break for it or rush him.

“I want you to turn yourself in,” he says as he glares at where Dick has his back plastered against the wall of the alley. “I’ve chased you all over town. I’m not in the mood for more games.” Pushing back the side of his jacket, Bruce lets Dick see the butt of his gun in its holster and the glinting silver of his cuffs. “Don’t make me chase you again.”

Dick puts his hands on his hips. “But the chase is the best part.” Rocking back on the heels of his low boots, Dick slips his fingers into the pockets of his suit. He’s all out of smoke bombs and those nifty little throwing stars, but maybe —

“Get your hands out of your pockets,” Bruce snaps. His hand goes to his gun and Dick freezes at the sight of strong fingers reaching for that very deadly window. “Turn around and place your hands on the wall. If you move, I will not be held responsible for what happens next.” Bruce’s footsteps fade into nothingness and he stops with only a few inches between his body and that of the black-clad thief in front of him.

Dick’s loud laughter cuts through the night.

“Oh,  _Bruce_ ,” Dick says in a high, almost mocking tone. “If you wanted to cop a feel, all you had to do is ask.” Dick pushes back against Bruce’s bigger body and then laughs again once the detective growls a warning out at him. “You know I’d never say no to you, Detective.”

Bruce starts patting Dick down. He finds every single one of the hidden pockets in Dick’s skin-tight suit, pulling out Dick’s blank keycards as well as his second best lock-picking kit. When he’s finished frisking Dick, there’s a pile of cards and tools, but no weapons.

“You’re not armed?” Bruce asks, sounding surprised as he unhooks the cuffs from his belt and reaches for Dick’s arms.  Bruce cuffs Dick and then spins him around, pressing his back against the brick of the alley wall.

Dick considers telling Bruce about the razor sharp claws in his gloves and then quickly tosses that thought aside.

 ”Where would I hide a weapon in this outfit?” Dick licks his lips and then leans forward so that Bruce has to hold him up before he can fall from overbalancing. He notices a shadow moving above their heads and lets a smile curve up the edges of his mouth before Bruce can notice it. “But you’re welcome to strip-search me, Detective. In fact, I insist.”

“Let’s see if that smart mouth lasts you through booking,” Bruce says. “You’re going away for a long time —”

Selina’s whip cracks through the air with a loud sound that makes both Dick and Bruce jump. “My partner may not be armed, but I certainly am,” Selina says in an amused voice. “Put your gun down and kick it away. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you don’t let him go.”

Dick bounces up on the tips of his toes and beams at Selina over Bruce’s broad shoulder. “My hero,” he croons as Bruce jerks his gun out of his holster and sets it down on the ground. Dick waits until Bruce kicks the gun well out of the way before returning to his brief conversation with Selina. “I could have handled things myself —”

“Says the man about to get arrested,” Selina says. Returning her attention to Bruce, Selina smiles widely even though the detective can’t really see her face. “Please step aside so my partner and I can leave.”

“What about my kit?” Dick asks when he’s halfway to Selina’s side. “Or my other stuff?”

“Leave them,” Selina says as she grabs Dick’s arm to pull him out of the alley “I’ll get you replacements. We need to go before he thinks of chasing us or doing something equally as foolish.”

Over his shoulder, Dick calls out at Bruce, “It was great seeing you, Bruce. Let’s do this again sometime.”

Selina swats Dick’s upper arm. “Don’t be cheeky.”


	7. Lace (Jason/Damian)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do JasonDamian with Jason in lingerie and fishnet stockings, please? - roundtherobinnest

“Laugh and I swear to god I won’t fuck you for a month,” Jason snarls when Damian stops in the doorway to Jason’s room and stares with his mouth hanging open. When Damian doesn’t move, Jason curses under his breath. “At least close the damn door if you’re going to stare at me.”

Damian blinks and steps into Jason’s room. He closes the door behind him without glancing backwards and thumbs the lock on instinct even though it’s just the two of them in the apartment on a good day.

“What are you doing?”

Jason lets his head drop back against the pillows on his bed.

“What does it look like, kid? I was trying to enjoy some private time, but apparently, that’s too much to ask in my own apartment.” Jason closes his eyes so that he doesn’t have to look at Damian and risk seeing something negative in the teenager’s dark gaze. “You have a room. Why don’t you use it?”

“I was coming to ask you a question,” Damian says, voice bitingly sharp for a second before it returns to his familiar haughty tone. When he speaks again, there’s a note of awe in his voice and he moves to perch on the edge of the bed just out of reach of Jason’s arms. “Where on earth did you find this much lace in your size?”

Jason opens his eyes just to roll them. “The internet,” he says. “Where else?” Jason lets his fingers slide down to toy with one of the thin straps of his garters and he snaps them against his thigh. “Why? You want a set?”

Damian snorts. “I don’t think so,” he says as a small smile curves up the corners of his mouth. “I don’t think I could pull it off.” Leaning over, Damian brushes his fingers over the lacy pattern stretched taut over Jason’s muscular thigh and then slides his fingers up to the scalloped edge of Jason’s equally lacy shorts. “Doesn’t that itch?”

Smirking, Jason pats his thigh in a way that’s obviously supposed to be sexy. “Why don’t you come here and find out?”


	8. Punishment (Bruce/Dick)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman spanking Robin (Dick)? Kinky? :3 - anonymous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely NSFW + contains elements of identity porn along with ambiguous ages.

Batman doesn’t make exceptions for anyone.

Not for the criminals they chase down every night.

Not for the cops that might be on the take.

Not even for his Robin.

Even with Robin’s scaly green shorts covering his skin, there’s not enough padding to keep the blows from Bruce’s gauntleted hand from hurting. Robin cries out and bucks against Batman’s strong thighs, struggling on instinct as Batman spanks him.

“Stay still,” Batman growls in that commanding tone that makes criminals piss themselves in the night but makes Robin’s dick leak against the constraints of his jock. Instead of spanking him again, Batman’s big hand squeezes Robin’s ass through his shorts.

The burn makes Robin yelp and try to grind down against his mentor’s body before Batman grabs him to hold him in place. “You’re being punished, boy. Stop squirming.”

Robin whines and tries to buck against Batman’s hold on his body. “I can’t —”

“You will,” Batman says in a firm tone just before he returns to spanking Robin’s bottom. The smacking sound of his palm hitting Robin’s ass and upper thighs echoes throughout the empty cave. It sounds so much harsher than it actually is. “I told you what would happen if you wandered off again, Robin. You could have been hurt —”

Robin whimpers for a perfectly aimed smack that makes pleasure rocket up his spine. When he can speak again without moaning for the pleasure radiating from where Batman has definitely left its mark on him, Robin blurts out, “But I didn’t!” in an almost offended tone.

“I didn’t get hurt,” he says as Batman continues to spank him. “I didn’t get lost. Please, Bru —” Robin stops before he can ruin the moment and starts again once he’s more in control of himself, shivering when Batman starts to stroke his overheated skin with the textured palm of his gauntlet. “Please,  _Batman_.”


	9. Virtue (Jaime/Khaji Da)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime Reyes/Khaji Da, orgasm denial - schizoauthoress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be tentacles.

If almost-orgasms are a thing then Jaime has more than his fair share of them in the past couple of hours.

Every time that Jaime feels his body tighten up with the predictable pull towards orgasm, Khaji Da stops him from coming. Jaime moans, mouth open against the pillow under his cheek when he feels the slick length of one of Khaji’s tentacles sliding against his hole, and tries to rock back against the light pressure.

“Oh come  _on_ , Khaji,” Jaime pleads, voice hoarse from all the shouting he’s been doing over the hours previous. He curls his fingers in the sheets and pushes back in the hopes that the scarab will take pity on him for a change. “We’ve been doing this for hours. Can’t we just —”

Khaji Da buzzes in the back of his head. [Patience is a virtue,] the scarab says directly into Jaime’s brain with this amused sort of chirping noise that reads as laughter to the parts of Jaime’s brain that aren’t figuratively leaking out of his ears. [I’m only trying to help.]

Jaime laughs. The sound comes out ragged around the edges, but it’s laughter nonetheless. “No you’re not, you little pervert,” Jaime says before a moan pushes out of his throat and he starts to reach for his junk on instinct. When Khaji kills the movement and adds another distraction by pushing another tentacle into his body, Jaime whines softly and slaps his palm into the mattress. “You just want — _geez_ — you just wanna make me get all desperate.”

The next time that Khaji buzzes, it’s not even close to internal. The vibrations work through Khaji’s carapace as well as the tentacles stroking Jaime’s body from the inside out. The next time that Khaji speaks into Jaime’s head, the scarab doesn’t even  _try_  to hide his amusement.

[It’s not much of a challenge,] Khaji sends along with a smug tone.

Jaime opens his mouth to say something — anything— but then Khaji sends a pulse through the tentacles inside of Jaime’s body and his world whites out with pleasure.

[Maybe next time, you’ll last longer.]


	10. Challenge (Dick+Damian)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do a DickDami AU where Dick is a Talon sent to assassinate Damian but is convinced not to because Damian has been there, done that? - ookami-hime

There are no open doors in Wayne Manor.

Bypassing the manor’s truly laughable defenses, Richard steals through the house at a slow pace. Why should he rush?

Wayne and the more formidable members of his little army of do-gooders haven’t been in town all weekend the only two people in the house are an old man and a _child_. Richard takes care of the old man with a canister of gas rolled into his ground-floor bedroom and as for the child —

The son of the Batman and the head of Leviathan won’t be as easy to take down, but Richard finds himself looking forward to it. He’s seen the boy fight. He’s even seen the boy kill to protect his father.

Richard is looking forward to taking out an opponent that won’t go screaming and pissing themselves and the teenager will certainly be a challenge. None of the other people Richard has put down in the name of the court — the wealthy whiners or their overpaid bodyguards — have put up much of a fight.

Richard wants to fight Damian Wayne.

He wants to kill for the good of his Court.

He wants —

“Are you going to stand there all night or are you waiting for an invitation?” Damian Wayne steps out from a dimly lit room in that massive house and bares his teeth at Richard. It’s not a smile. Or at least, it’s not the kind of smile Richard has seen in his time under the Court.  

The boy crosses his arms over his chest and looks Richard over from head to toe, gaze eventually returning to the ornate mask hiding his features from view. “Next time you plan an assassination attempt, come for your target first. I knew you were here the second that you gassed Pennyworth.”

Richard stares at Damian in silence, shifting his weight to his right foot as he reaches for one of his many knives.

“You don’t want to do that,” Damian says before Richard can do more than slide his fingers around the grip of his knife. “If you wanted to kill me and be done with it, you would have been out of the manor by now. You want a challenge. You want to be entertained. Knifing me in the back won’t get you that.”

Richard shakes his head, thankful that the mask covers his face so that Damian can’t see whatever expression is visible on his face. “How do you know —”

Damian rolls his eyes. “You’re  _far_  from my first assassin, Talon. I grew up with the League of Assassins. You don’t scare me.”

“I should,” Richard says. “You’re a  _child_.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Damian levels an unimpressed look in Richard’s direction. “My mother would eat you alive,” he says. “Now before this devolves into us slinging insults at each other, why don’t we take this inside?” Damian gestures at his room. “If you kill me now, you’ll never get your challenge. Father won’t fight you, he’ll just end you.”

“The Batman doesn’t kill.”

Damian smirks. “The Batman doesn’t handle deaths in his family very well. Do you really want to test your theory?”


End file.
